Thinking Of You
by Team Damon
Summary: Post-Shadow Souls, Damon disappears and Elena deals with the consequences. Title from Thinking Of You by Katy Perry, oneshot


Elena was supposed to be happy. Everything was supposed to be okay now, back to the way things were supposed to be. And though outwardly it seemed as if she had reached the pinnacle of happiness, inside she was falling apart and disintegrating into ashes of herself.

She was inside Stefan's arms, which was where for so long she had been longing to be so badly that it had physically hurt. The day that he had been rescued from the demonic prison had been a bittersweet, terrifying day, but it had all been worth it, to get her beloved back.

And now they were reunited, body and soul, just like it was always supposed to be.

Stefan's lips found hers, and she responded automatically. It felt robotic, familiar - comforting, but_routine_. She cringed as her mind disobeyed her and drifted to the man that had been haunting her heart relentlessly.

_He _was perfect, she thought in shame. But _he _was not Stefan, not her beloved. There had never been a chance for them, not really. Stefan owned her heart. They both knew that.

She tried not to think of his name. It hurt too badly. But it was always on her tongue and on her heart, always at the forefront of her wandering mind.

Damon.

He was everything Stefan wasn't. Dangerous, bad, unpredictable, wild, untamable, selfish. But Elena knew that she herself possessed more than a few of those qualities.

Stefan was good. Trustworthy. Dependable. _Like a golden retriever_, Elena thought as she cringed, hating the words she so often used to describe her vampire fiancé.

Soft lips trailed down her neck and Elena wished that sharp teeth would follow. Giving her blood was like giving her love, and she loved the otherworldly pleasure that exchanging life force brought. But she remembered who was kissing her. And she knew it wouldn't happen.

She wished Stefan would just claim her, take her, like _he _had.

But that also wouldn't happen.

She missed Damon. She missed him as both a lover and a friend, knowing she had no right to consider him either.

She knew he hated her. She had finally toyed with the wrong man, touched what did not belong to her. Elena Gilbert, queen of everything, she who always got whatever she wanted, had stepped too far and lost the only man that had ever been able to handle her and love her the way she had always desired.

When Stefan had been locked away, Elena unlocked the secret feelings that had been growing in her heart and allowed herself to partake of the irresistible, decadent sin that was Damon Salvatore. She had no right to, and she didn't like being a cheater. But she loved the way he made her feel so much that it somehow overshadowed any guilt. In her head she justified every kiss and every touch by convincing herself she was only doing it to "save" the hardened vampire, but really she knew it was something entirely different at work.

And now he was gone. Where, she didn't know. He'd found a vampire willing to change him back after unwittingly becoming a human by sniffing an innocent-looking bouquet, and then disappeared. Before he left he had told Elena that he wasn't going to stick around to watch her waste her life on his brother, and that she had thought wrong if she thought she could kiss him and taste his blood and then run back to Stefan the next day.

He told her to just forget him. She couldn't.

Stefan's kisses felt sweet. Damon's felt like fire.

Stefan's arms felt soft. Damon's felt like anchors keeping her from splitting apart into dust.

Elena clenched her eyes shut and tried so hard to push Damon out of her head. She let Stefan lay her down and take position over her, kissing back when needed, touching him obediently, letting little soft moans escape her lips when prompted.

It was a well-rehearsed act, perfectly scripted, exquisitely empty.

To say that she and Damon had shared passion would be a gross understatement. What happened when their skin touched was supernatural, noticeable by anyone who would watch. She remembered the time so seemingly long ago when, while arguing, her hand had somehow tangled with Damon's, and the sparks that erupted were so shocking that they had struggled awkwardly to pry their fingers away. Bonnie and Meredith first realized something was up at that moment.

But they had stayed loyal to Team Stefan, and Elena knew they would be disgusted if they knew of half of her stolen moments with Damon. This forbidden love was her burden to bear alone.

Stefan rolled them over and Elena hovered over him, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes and almost - almost - seeing dark midnight eyes looking back at her rather than forest green ones.

She hated herself for wishing those green eyes away. All she wanted was to be happy and satisfied with Stefan, just like she used to be.

But now she was ruined.

Elena lifted her arms and let Stefan remove her tank top, wondering why he was bothering to undress her. He refused to violate her virtue until they were married, and they had no concrete plans for a wedding. The thought of marrying him now scared Elena to death. Would anything ever be the same?

Stefan sat up and nuzzled her lace-covered breasts, and Elena tangled her fingers in his dark, wavy locks, wishing it was silky black hair she was tugging.

Stefan's lips were not urgent on hers, rather subdued, calm, easy. But she wanted rough, unyielding, unapologetic lips, ones that could only belong to another.

Elena was about to cry when Stefan's lips reached her ear. "I know what you want, love, and I don't want to deny you any longer."

She pulled back and searched his eyes. "What?"

He traced her lips with his thumb. "Let me make love to you, like I should have a long time ago."

There was a time that Elena would have been elated and fallen happily into his arms, only too willing to give the gentle vampire her virginity. She had dreamed of this moment for a long time, and now it was finally here.

And all she could do was cry, for the man she truly wanted to give her body to was not the one holding her.

"No, I want to wait," Elena sputtered, the pained confusion in Stefan's eyes acting as a knife to her aching heart.

"But…" Stefan's brows furrowed as he wiped a stray tear away, "I thought you wanted…"

"I changed my mind," Elena insisted, trying to gain control of herself. "You were right about waiting."

Stefan still looked troubled. "Okay… but why are you crying, lovely love?"

_Because I love your brother and I can't stop thinking about him_, her mind screamed as her lips lied with a forced smile. "Happy tears."

Stefan seemed to buy the lie. He took her in his arms and laid them both down, whispering his little words of love in her ear as he cradled her to his chest. Elena thought she might be sick with guilt. She wanted to believe that everything could go back to normal, but somewhere inside she knew it wouldn't. Not as long as Damon was gone, not as long as she was lying to herself, and not as long as Stefan thought everything was just peachy.

Elena had become her worst nightmare, an even more evil version of Katherine in more ways than one. She wanted to blame Damon but she knew it wasn't his fault. He never forced her to love him. He had simply waited for the day to come when she would realize that what she felt for him was not disdain, fear, or hatred, rather it was the purest of unconditional love. And when that day finally came he vanished.

Eventually Stefan fell asleep, and Elena felt unbearably alone. Completely, and deservedly, alone.

Maybe someday Damon would come back and she would get a second chance. Maybe he wouldn't and she would have to learn to be happy with who she had.

Either way, she was fragmented, broken, unworthy of being made whole, or so she was convinced. Stefan didn't deserve to be second best. He should be somebody's knight in shining armor, not a lucky runner up.

One thing she knew for sure. She no longer deserved either Salvatore, because no matter what she did, she would hurt at least one of them.

Elena closed her eyes and braced herself for another night of dreams. Damon was always in them, always watching, always close enough to seem farther away than ever.

But even just the unconscious glimpses she got during her restless sleep was better than the entirety of the day she would reluctantly awaken to.


End file.
